


The First Annual Staff Party of the Castle That Never Was

by Apharine



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/F, F/M, Reader-Insert, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-07-18 14:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7319836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apharine/pseuds/Apharine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Reader-insert Seven Minutes in Heaven with Organization XIII] When you woke up, you were expecting a quiet day off from missions, shared with no-one but yourself.  But your day off went terribly, almost predictably, wrong, and by that evening, you'd been roped into contributing towards a potluck dinner and playing some mashup of Seven Minutes in Heaven and Spin the Bottle with your Organization XIII colleagues.  Kingdom Hearts help you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rumors and Wagers

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone of AO3! It's been a while. I've been lurking around and writing very slowly these past couple years. Finished up my undergraduate degree and graduated, did a year of neuroscience-related research, got accepted to and started a doctorate program - so I've been busy. Recently, the desire to re-visit the Kingdom Hearts series hit me (because I'm a responsible and mature future doctor...) and this was only spurred on by the announcement of the next upcoming KH game. So, here I am, enjoying a temporary throwback to my middle/high school days, when I remembered how much I love the Organization, and remember I'd started this Seven Minutes in Heaven series a while ago and never finished it (much like some of my other works on here, sorry to everyone who started reading Glory, I'll finish it eventually...). 
> 
> So far I've written chapters for everyone through Number X, Luxord, and am just revising them and working on the last couple Nobodies. Roxas and Xion will not be in this series due to their age, and no, I won't be 'aging them up', either. So just assume this is set sometime before Days, then. 
> 
> Lastly, depending on how this is all received, I may write follow-ups for your time in the closet with each of the Organization members...where things get a little more NSFW after the party ends. Thoughts on this are, of course, very appreciated!

     When you walked into the Grey Area after a late breakfast, the rumors were flying more quickly than an Air Soldier Heartless.

     “Hey, you might be the last one to have heard,” Axel beamed at you as soon as you stepped in the common space, obviously overjoyed to share the news.  With one lanky arm around your shoulders, the redhead navigated you into the center of an absolutely packed Grey Area.  It seemed nobody was currently on a mission, which was extremely unusual – you thought you were the only one with today off.  What was going on?  The couches were jam-packed, and even the standing area around them was full, every Nobody unusually animated and talkative.  “Luxord apparently finally got Xemnas to make a wager with him!  It’s - ”

     “The Superior would never do such a thing,” Saix’s deep voice interrupted Axel’s eager chatting as the blunette approached, clipboard in hand.  “And according to my notes, Axel, you should currently be in Agrabah –”

     “Nobody’s going anywhere today, Treasure-Face,” Xigbar drawled from where he sprawled on the couch next to Demyx, who was strumming his sitar and adding to the already clamorous background noise.  “Go Berserk on them all if you want, but it’s a battle you’re still going to lose.”

     “We have an _Organization_ to run, Number Two,” Saix returned, but Xigbar had already turned around and was chatting with Larxene, who was leaning against the back of the couch.

     “I heard Zexion say that they were betting on the outcome of Vexen’s current Replica project,” Demyx said to you conspiratorially.  Beside you, Saix’s grip on his clipboard tightened just incrementally.

     “They would not –“ Saix began, but was cut off by Marluxia, who had just traded spots with Xaldin on the opposite couch.

     “ _I_ heard from a rather reliable source that they were betting on which of the recent worlds we’ve acquired would prove to be more strategic for us,” the botanist announced, leaning casually on the armrest of the couch.

     “They’re all strategic, and producing many hearts,” Saix interrupted, trying desperately to reassert authority.  “Marluxia, you’re supposed to-“

     “I heard that they were betting on who could win the trivia night at that bar in Hollow Bastion,” Xigbar laughed, cutting Saix off yet again.  You were certain that the Freeshooter was just doing it to piss the Diviner off…and to stir up trouble.  Surely Xemnas would never bet on something as frivolous as that – would he?

     Xigbar’s comment set off the firestorm that he had intended.  Everybody exploded in a downright brouhaha of what they’d heard, what they thought, and why certain theories were a bad or good idea – all at once.  Even Lexaeus, normally as silent as Nobodies were known to come, was chattering with Zexion and Vexen in a little huddle.  The sheer noise of the Nobodies was startling; hadn’t anybody designed this place with decent acoustics, or did everything echo here?

     “Wait, Axel,” you shouted over the cacophony.  “I don’t get it.  Just because Xemnas made a bet – what’s the big deal?”

     “Well, there’s only one outcome when you bet with Luxord,” Axel shouted back over the din, leaning down towards you.  “So, naturally, Xemnas lost.”

 

* * *

 

              

     Speculation could only last so long, and eventually, the crowd died out, trailing off to do whatever it was Nobodies did on their collective self-appointed day off.  Eventually, you, Demyx, and Axel were the only ones left in the Grey Area with Saix, who was still seething.  Demyx didn’t care about the bluenette’s anger; after all, he never cared anyway and would barely have done the mission even on a normal day.  Axel and Saix, you knew, were pretty close, so Axel probably didn’t feel nervous even when he was the target of Saix’s irritation.  And you – well, this actually was your day off, so what was the Diviner going to do to you?

     “It’s pitiable,” Saix growled, “that one little rumor is enough to send our infrastructure crumbling to the ground.  We should all be better than this,” he added, casting a sidelong glance at Demyx, who was showing you how to play a C chord on the sitar and really not listening at all.

     “Yeah,” Axel said absent-mindedly.  “I guess we should be.  But, you know, the funny thing is that I think around when Luxord first joined the Organization, he made a wager with me that he could get Xemnas to lose a bet.  So, even though it’s been years, I guess I’ve lost that one.  I’m honestly kind of nervous about what’s in it for me, now.”

     “Wait, wait, wait,” Demyx said, letting go of your hand where he’d been positioning it on the neck of his sitar.  “You made that bet, too?  I did the same thing when Lux first joined!”

     “Yeah, me too, when I first joined,” you agreed, a bit taken aback.  Soon, all eyes were on Saix.

     “I…” he trailed off, and you almost wondered if there wasn’t a touch of a blush rising to his cheeks.  You tried to suppress a smile; he took himself so seriously!  “Me too,” he mumbled, barely audible.  You and Axel exchanged a glance, and you knew he was thinking the same thing as you; how many others were there who had been caught up in this?  Or was it just the four of you?

     A tap on your shoulder made you jump and almost let out a yelp.  You twisted around, surprised, terrified of finding Luxord or Xemnas waiting for you.  But no, it was just a Dusk, politely handing you a playing card.  You frowned and took it, turning it over to reveal its face, as the Dusk went around, politely handing out cards to everyone else in the room before stalking off.

     “You have been summoned to Where Nothing Gathers for a lunchtime meeting.  Arrive at noon promptly,” you read aloud.  There was no signature; there didn’t need to be.  Every one of you knew who had distributed these memos.

 

* * *

 

 

     You and Larxene entered Where Nothing Gathers together, finally having fallen silent from all of your shared speculation.  She, too, had made that same bet with Luxord when she joined the Organization.  How many others were there?  Had Xemnas really lost?  Moreover, were you all totally, royally screwed?

     “See you,” Larxene said with a small grimace and a shrug of her shoulders before parting ways with you to take her place on her throne.

     “See you,” you echoed, sure your face looked as bewildered as hers, though it was oddly reassuring to know that you weren’t the only one confused and a little afraid.

     Demyx was the last one to take his place on his throne, somewhat unsurprisingly.  The Superior sat and waited for him in stolid, stony silence, his face betraying nothing.  For a long moment, it looked like he wasn’t even going to speak.

     “So why are we all gathered here today, in Where Nothing Matters?” Xigbar asked to no one in particular, kicking back and looking quite amused with himself.

     “Gathers,” Saix growled.  “Where Nothing Gathers.”  Xigbar only grinned and shrugged; it was obvious to everyone that today was an ideal day for him to stir up some trouble, and he was loving it.

     “We are gathered here, at this abrupt hour,” Xemnas spoke, his deep, resounding voice silencing all others.  “Because our Number Ten has an announcement to make.  You will all follow his every order without exception.  Do I make myself clear?”

     Around the room, everybody nodded slowly, and all eyes shifted to Luxord on his throne.

     “Greetings, colleagues!”  He chirped out in his British accent, sounding so cheerful that the sharp contrast to Xemnas’ monotone was startling.  “I understand that various rumors are flying around the Castle, and I want to make one thing perfectly clear: whatever you’ve heard, it’s all true.  Now,” he grinned, looking out at everyone with a dangerous light in his blue eyes.  Your stomach turned; what were you all in for?  Never before had Xemnas announced that you were all to follow any orders other than his or Saix’s, and Saix was really just an extension of the Superior, anyway.  “I’d like to announce that tonight, at eight o clock, we will be holding our First Annual Staff Party in the Hall of Empty Melodies.”  Luxord paused for effect, beaming out at his audience.

     “You’re serious?”  Marluxia spoke up, interrupting the silence.

     “Besides the Superior’s orders,” Xaldin snapped.  “I see no reason to attend this Staff Party.  It’s frivolous and a distraction to our plans.”

     “Well,” Luxord answered cheerily.  “The funny thing is, Xaldin, you may recall a bet that we made when I first joined the Organization…”  He trailed off for a moment, and the Whirlwind Lancer frowned, slumping in his seat.  “I do believe that you’ve lost that bet today.  In fact, I do believe you’ve all lost that bet today,” Luxord added.  You glanced around the room; Luxord had roped literally _everyone_ in the Organization into this somehow?  “And unless you want to encounter the Superior’s anger, or you want to find out how unpleasant it is to break the terms of a contractually-binding bet with me, you will be in the Hall of Empty Melodies at eight tonight.  Dress is casual, jeans and a shirt are fine.”

     “Hey, Lux,” Xigbar called up, wasting no time.  “Is it bring your own beer?”

     “Potluck!  Potluck!”  Demyx started chanting, pumping his fists in the air and obviously thrilled at the idea of a party.  You sighed, slumping into your seat the same way that Xaldin had in his.  This was going to be a _very_ long day off.

 

* * *

 

 

     Thanks to Demyx, Luxord actually had adopted the potluck idea, and you and Larxene had to go out together to pick some food up, since most of the rest of the kitchen was being dominated by Nobodies who were surprisingly eager to do some cooking.  You weren’t thrilled about having to spend the munny, but had to admit, it was kind of fun getting ready for a party with the only other girl in the Organization.

     “Which one?”  Larxene asked you, holding two tops up.  She wasn’t too into the whole casual-dress affair, and was enjoying getting a little dolled up for once.  Her fervor for it was infectious, and you had to admit, you were enjoying it just a little, too.  “I like the silver one, but then I’ll have to find a different bra, because this one is so dark it’ll just show right through it.  But the other top’s cute, too, and I can wear this bra with it, and let’s be real…it’s my best bra.  What do you think?”

     Before you could open your mouth, a very familiar voice interrupted.

     “Definitely the silver one,” Xigbar announced, vanishing through a portal in Larxene’s wall before she could manage to electrocute him – though not for lack of effort on her part.

 

* * *

 

 

     You and Larxene were among the first at the party.  Luxord had, of course, already beaten you to the Hall of Empty Melodies, and greeted you both with a one armed hug and peck on the cheek when he saw you.

     “Wonderful to see you both, so glad you could make it.  Potluck food on the table to the right,” he announced.  “Do mingle with the other girls; you’ve likely seen them around some places, Traverse Town, Hollow Bastion, that sort of thing.  They’re all good friends of mine, all have lost bets, you’re all in the same boat so do try to be friendly, loves.  Vexen!  Wonderful to see you…”  The Gambler of Fate moved on from you two as you shuffled toward the table to the right, as directed, eyeing whatever-it-was that Vexen had cooked up and was carrying in.  It looked gelatinous and very concerning.

     The staff party, it turned out, was a lot of fun.  Xigbar had brought some beer, Marluxia had brought some liquor, and you were sufficiently tipsy, your voice slightly hoarse from socializing and cheering on various beer pong teams, by the time ten o clock came around. 

     “All right everyone,” Luxord called above the din.  “Gather round, circle up, come along now.”  Slowly, like a herd shuffling into place, the partygoers – yourself included – moved into Luxord’s ascribed position.  “Next up, we’ll be playing a game.”

     “King’s cup!”  Axel shouted.

     “No, no,” Luxord grinned with a little chuckle.  “Maybe later, though I’m certain some of you will be quite done for the night after that.  We’ll be starting with something a bit new, something that we couldn’t have done quite so well if not for the ladies present tonight.  Who here has heard of Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

     You and Larxene exchanged glances.  _Oh, God,_ you thought, and you could see the same look written across her face.  Things had been going too well for you all as a group that had lost a bet with Luxord; you should’ve known it couldn’t last.

 

* * *

 

 

     The game had to be slightly modified, since it turned out that nearly nobody had any small, insignificant trinket to be contributed to pull out of a hat.  It was almost embarrassing, watching member after member of the Organization offer either munny, pocket lint, or their weapons to be put into the pool.

     Before Luxord attempted to collect from Xemnas, he gave up, redistributing the possessions back to their respective owners (give or take the pocket lint). 

     “Somebody grab a bottle, I know you’ve all drank more than a few together so far,” he instructed as he struggled to move Saix’s Claymore back to him.  Saix, in exchange, gave him the requested bottle, looking extraordinarily nonplussed.  “We’ll determine who spins first by having the girls draw cards.  The first lady to pull the Ace of Hearts goes first.  Let’s see…Larxene, why don’t you start us off?”  The Gambler approached your friend, who was seated to your left with a very plain grimace on her face.  Luxord didn’t seem to notice or care, offering her a deck of cards fanned out in his hands.  With a small, angry groan of frustration in the back of her throat, Larxene drew the card from the far right.  You watched closely as your friend turned it over, revealing the Jack of Spades.  Her posture and face relaxed as she handed the card back to Luxord.

     “Next,” Luxord announced, moving the deck to you.  You sighed and shut your eyes, pulling from the deck at random.  When you opened them, you found the Ace of Hearts staring back at you.

     Just your luck.

     Setting your face into as unperturbed an expression as you could muster, you handed the card back to Luxord, who held it up for the group to see.  Surprisingly, the group remained silent as you walked toward the center of the circle, where the bottle lay.  You took a deep breath and knelt down, giving it a spin – not too hard, but not too gentle, either.  The little brown bottle turned around and around, wobbling and wobbling, until finally, it slowed, and when it stopped…

 

 


	2. The Superior of the In-Between

            The bottle was pointing to Xemnas.

            Xemnas.  The boss.  The Superior of the In-Between.

            You were sure you were going to have a heart attack, right then and there, and that Dusks would be sent in after the party ended to sweep up your remains.  As Xemnas' golden eyes met yours, you were also certain that you had a total deer-in-the-headlights expression written all across your face.  The Superior's eyes narrowed slightly, and a hint of a smirk tugged at his lips.

            He knew he scared you.

            Xemnas rose slowly from his seat, the steady swishing of his cloak as he walked towards where you sat the only sound in the room.  Nobody dared to make any cat-calls or wolf-whistles or teasing remarks to the Superior.  The silence surpassed even the quiet still of the cemetery in Halloweentown.

            “Well?”  Xemnas' deep voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you whipped your eyes off the solemn expressions surrounding you and back to the Superior.  He was watching you expectantly, one gloved hand extended. 

            You swallowed hard and nodded, placing your smaller hand in the Superior's as quickly as you could.  You didn't want to keep him waiting.  His strong fingers closed around your palm rather gently, but still firmly enough that he could help pull you to your feet.  The gesture, you noted, was remarkably easy for the well-muscled man.

            Xemnas escorted you to the closet, walking slowly, deliberately, as if showing off his trophy to a silent Organization.  You weren't too sure how you felt about that.

            The Superior opened the closet door himself, holding it open for you.  Letting go of his hand, you stepped inside the relatively small space with a curt nod of thanks, and immediately flattened yourself against the nearest wall, hoping you could sink backwards into it and just disappear from this terrifying situation.

            Xemnas shut the door, and for a moment, you could see nothing.  You winced, almost expecting a large hand to descend on your skin painfully, or to feel the familiar sting of an Ethereal Blade.  While you had only incurred punishment from the Superior once, it had been more than enough to make you realize just why the rest of the Organization had found your former lack of fear for Xemnas to be so foolishly naïve.  Nothing happened, though, and you glanced around the closet, wondering where the Superior of the In-Between actually _was_.

            “Sir?”  You squeaked, uncertain of what else to do.

            “I'm here,” Xemnas murmured from the opposite side of the closet.  As your eyes began to adjust, you caught a glimpse of his silver hair in what little light crept through the crack under the heavy closet door.

            He really was quite an exotic creature, with his dark skin contrasting beautifully against that hair of his.  Now that you thought about it, he was also one of the most well-built members of the entire Organization; his upper body was most impressive to look at, with beefy pectorals and biceps straining the fabric of his cloak. 

            If it weren't for the fact that he was your boss, and he terrified you, you could have seen Xemnas as being...well, hot.

            A long moment passed in awkward silence, though it felt more like an eternity.  Your eyes adjusted fully to the darkness, and you could make out Xemnas' expressionless face, his golden orbs focused on your eyes, occasionally dipping down to roam over your body.  Every time they did, you shivered.

            “Are you well today, sir?”  You asked cordially, unwilling to allow the oppressive silence to continue any longer.  You felt you might suffocate in it if you did.

            “I am,” Xemnas responded briefly.  You kicked yourself mentally for not coming up with a better conversation starter.  Small talk and yes/no questions bored Xemnas.  What did he like to talk about, then?

            “I trust Kingdom Hearts is coming along well, Superior?”  You asked deferentially.  Maybe, if you were lucky, he could fill up the entire seven minutes just talking about his beloved Kingdom Hearts.

            “We continue to make progress on our sacred moon, yes,” he agreed, taking a step towards you and peering down into your eyes with an unreadable expression.  “More hearts are, of course, required.  ...Tell me, are you afraid of me?”

            You froze.  How in Oblivion's name were you supposed to answer that?!

            “S-Sir?”  You gaped.  When it became clear that the Superior was prepared to wait for your answer, you fumbled around for the proper words.  “I...I believe a healthy amount of fear is useful for maintaining respect and order in the Organization, wouldn't you agree?”

            The Superior smirked, taking another step towards you.  He tucked one large, curled index finger under your chin gently, tipping your face upwards.

            “I would agree,” Xemnas murmured, his low voice a deep rumble.  By now, he was close enough that you could almost hear it through his broad chest.  “But you seem to have been avoiding me ever since that incident...”  He paused thoughtfully.  “I don't enjoy punishing you, you should know.  But it had to be done, to encourage you to avoid repeating your mistakes.”  You were certain that if he could feel emotions, he would, indeed, enjoy dealing out punishment, but you kept your mouth shut.  “All the same, you've always been loyal and eager to please me.  I've come to rely on your contributions to the Organization, and for that, I thank you.”

            You felt a swell of pride at his words, but were quickly distracted as the hand that wasn't currently cupping your chin slid around to caress the back of your neck, the warm heat comforting in the chill of the closet, but the grip rough.  The Superior leaned in towards you slowly, until the tip of his dark nose brushed against yours.  You temporarily forgot how to breathe, the air getting stuck somewhere between your lungs and mouth.

            Suddenly, the Superior's lips were on yours in a surprisingly tender kiss.  He moved his mouth lustily, the large hand on the back of your neck grabbing you a bit more roughly than before.  You remained immobile, uncertain as to what to do.  This man was beyond your fathoming. Whenever you thought you had him figured out, he always did something completely baffling.  A strand of silver bangs brushed your face, and you shivered, the reality of the current situation fully hitting you.

            _Xemnas is kissing me._

            Suddenly, the Superior pulled away, leaving your lips feeling cold and tingling.

            “My apologies,” the man intoned, sounding, for a moment, almost disappointed.  That was absurd.  Xemnas never sounded disappointed, or happy, or emotional at all.  You were imagining things.  “I won't force myself on you if you really see me as such a monster.”  He turned to leave, his long fingers lingering, trailing across the soft skin of your neck, before their touch disappeared completely.

            “Wait!  Superior, you're no monster,” you blurted, gazing up at him through your lashes.  Something strange – a memory of a feeling – was bubbling up where your heart had once been; you almost…pitied the man.  Being at the top of the Organization could surely be a lonely affair; maybe you really didn't have to be quite so afraid of him?  Xemnas turned back towards you, obviously interested in what you had to say.  You swallowed hard and continued, your voice gaining strength the more you spoke.  “At least, I don't think so.  You're always sacrificing so much for us, constantly working to complete Kingdom Hearts for our benefit.  Please, allow me to thank _you,_ for all you do for the Organization…and me _._ ”  Brazenly, you rested a hand on his chest, pulling him back towards you as you stood up on tip-toe and stretched your head back.  For an instant, the thick layers of muscle under your hand flexed, and your stomach twisted.  Had you been too presumptuous?  Was he going to push you off, or worse, strike you?

            Xemnas' kiss was no longer tender this time.  He crashed against you like a wave, pressing you against the wall, moving his lips against yours relentlessly.  You reeled from the sensations, trying – and failing – to fight back a quiet moan, moving your hands over his well-muscled chest sensuously.  The man was a damn good kisser, his tongue exploring your mouth thoroughly even though you couldn't remember how it had gotten there in the first place.

            As suddenly as it had started, the kiss ended, with the Superior smirking down at you, his eyebrows raised.  He pulled away, still wearing that impossibly confusing smirk, his fingers lingering on your skin once again.  This time, he didn't return for another kiss, instead heading for the closet door.  As he turned the doorknob, his golden eyes slyly drifted back to you, peering at you through his silver hair with a look that clearly said _you'll be back for more._

            Then he rearranged his face into that calm, very Superior expression, and stepped out of the closet and into the party once more.


	3. The Freeshooter

            The bottle was pointing to Xigbar.

            You let out a breath you hadn't even been aware that you'd been holding.  Seven minutes in a closet with the Freeshooter wasn't intimidating at all; heck, you needed both hands to count the number of times the two of you had spent over an hour in various cramped, obscure spaces, waiting for the right target or intel on reconnaissance missions.  This was nothing.

            “Looks like you're stuck with me, sweetheart,” the Freeshooter joked, elbowing you playfully as he stood up from his seat next to you.

            “However will I survive?”  You grinned, giving his shoulder a playful shove in return.  Much to your surprise, the Freeshooter’s ever-present smirk softened, and he offered you a calloused, un-gloved hand.  You raised your eyebrows at him in suspicion; it wasn't often that the devilish man actually tried being considerate.  Xigbar raised his eyebrows back at you, moving his hand closer in what appeared to be a genuine desire to be gentlemanly for once.  Who’d have thought he had it in him?

With a tentative smile back at the man, you placed your un-gloved hand in his palm, noticing how strange it felt to actually be touching skin-to-skin.  All the Organization clothes normally prevented much direct contact, after all.  If you were being totally honest with yourself, Xigbar's broad hand felt nice in yours.  Reassuring, almost.

            The Freeshooter pulled you up to your feet, and you motioned to pull your hand away now that he had done his job.  But Xigbar’s smile quickly returned to his usual shit-eating variety as his grip tightened, nearly crushing your hand and preventing your escape.

            “Look at them, holding hands!”  Axel jeered, while someone else – Luxord? – wolf-whistled.  “Told you they were more than just friends!”  The redhead elbowed Demyx, his seatmate, with a knowing wink in your direction. 

            “Go Xigbar!”  Demyx laughed, clapping amusedly.  “I always knew you’d score with her eventually!”

            You very suddenly felt like punching Demyx.  Hard.

            If you didn't punch Xigbar first.

            The impossible man was laughing that downright impish laugh of his, dragging you off to the closet amidst more jeering, still clasping your hand tight enough that you couldn’t get it out.  _Why_ were you friends with him again?! 

            As soon as the closet door was opened, you stumbled in to the darkness and away from your atrocious colleagues, finally wrenching your hand away from Xigbar.  You were blushing so badly you could feel it in your cheeks and hear it in a roaring in your ears.  Xigbar paused before entering, yelling something out to the partygoers – you were sure you didn’t want to know what, and actually felt grateful you were too flustered to make it out – before finally closing the closet door behind him.

            “You're probably the biggest jerk I know.  I hope you realize that,” you growled, sliding down to a sitting position against the far wall of the closet.  Xigbar laughed, and you couldn't help but smile just a little bit too.  As much as you didn't want to admit it at the moment, his antics always did amuse you.

            “Yeah,” Xigbar agreed in a lazy drawl.  His shoes softly pattered on the ground, and you figured he was walking over towards you by the sound.  As your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the closet, you could make out his silhouette approaching, illuminated by the crack under the heavy closet door.  “You don’t even know the half of it.  But hey, I keep things lively around here, and nobody really gets hurt.  Most of the time.”  A soft swish met your ears as Xigbar pressed his back against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting by your side.  Ever confident and casual, he draped one arm, surprisingly heavy with lean muscle, over your shoulders.

            “Most of the time,” you echoed, a tinge of amusement leaking into your voice.  You were pretty certain that you'd never again be able to convince Axel or Demyx or Luxord or…anyone, really…that you and Xigbar were just friends.  The rest of your nonexistence would probably be spent enduring their teasing.  The thought was a little bit less than appealing, but you just couldn't stay mad at Xigbar for it somehow.

            “You're pretty lucky you only got stuck with me, though, sweetheart,” Xigbar laughed, giving your shoulders a friendly squeeze.  “Imagine if you had to be in here with Vexen?”

            “Hey, he's not _that_ bad,” you said, aware that the Freeshooter would probably always be at odds with the Academic.

            “Whatever.  The point is, you coulda been stuck in here with someone like Xemnas or Saix.  I know I'm not _Marluxia_ -”

            “Ugh,” you interjected, wrinkling your nose at the thought.

            “No?”  Xigbar drawled.  “Here I was, thinking that Flower Boy was your little crush all this time, what with that face of his…”

            “No!”  You laughed, shaking your head vigorously at the thought.  “He’s _so_ not my type!”

            “Then what is your type?”  The Freeshooter asked, his voice suddenly very serious.  In the dark, you could see his golden eye watching you with alarming studiousness; you’d seen that look on him before, when he was sizing up a target on a mission.  You were vaguely aware that alarm bells were going off in the back of your mind; Xigbar was an easy-going jokester on the outside, but you knew that at his core, he was clever, cunning – conniving, even.  The Freeshooter was planning something, and you had a feeling he was going to make sure you would play right into his hands.

            “Man, I don’t know,” you sighed, tipping your head back against the wall, trying to choose your words carefully; the slightest slip could be what Xigbar was looking for.  “I guess…I’m more into guys with more of a rugged handsomeness, you know?  Don’t get me wrong, Marluxia is definitely handsome,” you added, stopping Xigbar before he even started.  “But his face is so perfect it’s almost, like, androgynous.  I want more of a manly man, who’s a little less…” 

            “Metrosexual?”  The Freeshooter offered, a pleased grin spreading across his face again.

            “I guess, yeah,” you admitted, unable to restrain a giggle or two.  You changed the topic abruptly, wanting the focus off yourself and that dangerous gleam out of your friend’s good eye.  “But okay, what about you, Xig?  What’s your type?”

            “Well,” Xigbar murmured, the hand around your shoulders sliding down to your waist.  “If you really want to know, little lady…”  His breath was in your ear, whispering conspiratorially as it had so many times in the past, but this time, there was more than simple scheming in his tone.  “I’d say my type is you.”

            “C’mon, Xig, quit joking around,” you sighed, rolling your eyes.  He could be such a tease.  Ordinarily you found his ragging amusing, but this time, it irritated you.  Xigbar certainly had his own sort of devilish charm, even despite – or maybe because of – his scar and eye patch, and you’d be lying if you were to say that you hadn’t noticed your attraction to him the moment you met him.  Hearing him joke about being interested in you only stung.

            “Joking?”  Xigbar scoffed.  “As if.”

            The hand around your waist tugged you just a little closer, and you found yourself turning towards the Freeshooter, watching his face carefully – suspiciously, even.  Your eyes darted down to his mouth – that attractive, always smirking mouth of his – and back up to his golden eye, which was fixed on you with an intense gaze.

  
            Maybe he really had been serious.

            You barely had time for that thought before Xigbar pressed his lips to yours gently.  Your breath caught, your head swam, and you did the only thing that made sense.  You kissed him back.

            The Freeshooter pulled away too soon for your liking, and you made a small sound in the back of your throat, immediately hoping against hope that it had gone unnoticed.  Xigbar heard it, though, and laughed.

            “I'll take that to mean that you want more.”

            The strong arm wrapped around your waist pulled you onto the Freeshooter’s lap so that you were chest-to-chest with him, your legs straddling his.  The position seemed undignified to you, somehow, and you were about to protest when Xigbar's lips covered yours a second time.  Instead, you melted into the kiss.

            Xigbar snuck one hand up the back of your shirt, teasing your bare skin and fiddling dangerously close to your bra clasp.  His other hand traced circles on your inner thigh, making you shiver. 

            And then, just as you let out a quiet moan, a sudden flood of light overwhelmed the room.

            “Time's up, lovers!”  Axel jeered, a camera in his hands. 

            “Out of the closet, Xiggy.  You two will have to finish things up later,” Demyx added with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. 

            “As if,” Xigbar grinned, wrapping one arm around you more tightly, shifting you out of the way just the tiniest amount.  An arrowgun appeared in his other free hand; the Freeshooter waved it lazily as he spoke.  “Let’s get something straight here, kiddos.  I’m Number Two in this Organization.”  A single bullet tore out of the gun, finding its mark in Axel’s camera.  The device fried in the Flame’s hands, electricity crackling as it short-circuited.  Xigbar’s grin widened.  “And I don’t take orders from you.  So I’ll be finishing things up whenever my little lady wants.”  You didn’t miss the way he had deliberately called you his, or the triumphant gleam in his eye as he said it.  So _this_ was what the Freeshooter had been plotting…well, you had to admit, you didn’t mind playing into his hands on this one.

“Well?”  Xigbar murmured to you, keeping his gun fixed on the figures in the door.  You had a feeling, somehow, that they wouldn’t be harassing you about your relationship with Xigbar anymore.  “Just say the word and I’ll teleport us out of here to somewhere more…fun.”

            You couldn’t help but smile as you nestled closer against Xigbar, wrapping your arms more tightly around his lean-muscled shoulders in anticipation of his use of his space powers.  Planting a kiss on his scarred cheek, you whispered in his ear.

            “Let’s go.”


	4. The Whirlwind Lancer

            The bottle was pointing to Xaldin.

            You raised your eyes to his purple ones.  He was staring intently at the bottle, an almost-gruff expression on his face, as if he could will it to move on to someone else.  Then again, his element being wind, he could probably do just that, if he focused on being subtle enough...

            This realization seemed to strike several members of the Organization at once, as multiple voices announced definitively that the bottle had stopped on Xaldin and he had to go into the closet.  A slightly-tipsy Demyx wolf-whistled for effect, eliciting a grimace from Number Three.

            Now scowling harder than ever at the lot of them, burly Xaldin pulled himself to his feet, skulking into the closet without so much as acknowledging you.

            Did he really think it’d be so bad, being stuck in a closet with you for seven measly minutes?  You felt certain that the Whirlwind Lancer had to have dealt with worse, more dangerous things than little old _you_ before, and in more miserable locations, too.

            Trying to keep these thoughts from showing on your face, you rose to your feet and left to meet the surly lancer waiting for you.  You walked as quickly as you could to the closet, feeling every pair of eyes in the room on you.  The walk seemed to take forever, and you felt as if every single muscle you moved – right down to the swing of your arms while you walked – was being carefully observed by the entirety of the silent Organization.

            You slipped quickly inside the closet, pulling the door shut loudly behind yourself.  At least in the darkness of the smaller space, you could relax and feel less self-conscious than you had a moment ago.

            Although, you remembered, a rather large, displeased, and dangerous Nobody happened to be in this closet with you – not exactly a relaxing prospect at all.  The thought made you let out an exasperated sigh.

            “Tell me,” Xaldin spoke suddenly, the outline of his extremely large figure visible from the light seeping in under the door.  “Does it _bother_ you, the way I'm acting?”  The Lancer folded his arms indifferently behind his back, and you crossed your arms in front of your chest defensively.

            “What do you mean?”  You asked uncertainly, keeping your back pressed against the door for safety.  Xaldin had never threatened you, but that didn't mean you would let your defenses down around him.  Due to the size difference between the Lancer and you alone – not to mention the skill difference – you knew the man could overpower you easily.

            “I mean, does it bother you, knowing that you aren't my favorite choice for who to get put in this closet with?”  Xaldin reiterated, taking a step towards you.  “In fact, you're quite possibly the last person I'd want to spend seven minutes of my time with.  What a waste this game has turned out to be.”

            “You're not exactly first on my list, either, pal,” you growled back at the man, surprising even yourself in your boldness.  “What's your problem, anyway?  Can't you at least act civilly while we're stuck in here?”

            “Why should I?”  Xaldin grinned menacingly, his very white teeth flashing in the darkness.  “I can learn much more about you by judging how you react to anger...and by judging _what_ angers you.  Nothing personal, you understand.”

            “Can't say I do, but whatever,” you rolled your eyes, beginning to take a seat on the floor.

            “Is it ordinary for you to care so little about the matters around you?”  Xaldin asked sharply, purple eyes narrowed into a leer.  “Perhaps your indifference would explain what a disaster that one mission was -”

            “Don't you _dare_ ,” you seethed, scrambling back up to your feet and bunching your hands into fists at your sides.  Nobody had the right to speak to you about that so-called ‘disastrous’ mission except the Superior, and you’d already taken your punishment from him.  “That mission had nothing to do with _indifference_.  That had to do with sacrifice and trying to keep the right people alive, though I suppose I couldn't expect you to understand,” you spat bitterly.

            “No?  You think I don't have friends?”  Xaldin rumbled in laughter.  “Funny; I remember a day when you were desperate to befriend even the likes of me.  Better than that now, aren't you?  Too good for me?”

            “You wouldn't be my friend no matter how hard I tried, so you shut your mouth,” you snapped, stepping towards Xaldin and jabbing a finger towards his very broad chest.  He grinned broader, also taking a step to narrow the gap between them.

            “I don't think so,” Xaldin growled.  “Maybe you forgot, but you were the one who was incapable of making anything but enemies as a new Nobody under the Organization's wing.  Don't turn your idiocy around on me.”

            “If I only made enemies, how come I spend my time off hanging out with my friends now, and I hear that you go to some Castle trying to turn some Beast or other into a Heartless?  If that's not proof that you can only make enemies, I don't know what is,” you retorted, feeling rather proud of yourself.  If you didn't know better, you'd swear you were actually holding your own in this argument.

            Xaldin took three quick steps towards you, closing the gap as quickly as a Neoshadow would.  You found herself nose-to-chest with the burly man, and you unconsciously sucked in a startled breath.  Xaldin smelt surprisingly...good, better than almost anybody in the Organization, even.  He had a subtle but very masculine musk about him.

            Shaking your head to clear it, you glared up at the offensive man, reminding yourself that you were still very much at odds with him.

            “Don't you dare,” Xaldin hissed quietly, using your earlier words.  “You have no clue about why I'm trying to change that Beast.  It's for the best for the Organization and for him -”

            “How can it be best for him?!”  You shrieked, your fists again balling at your sides.  The urge to slap some sense into the man crossed your mind, but you resisted it – even if just barely.  “Becoming a Heartless, giving into the Darkness, living a nonlife as a Nobody – how could you wish this nonexistence on anyone?!”

            “There are some things in life that can _make_ you wish you couldn't feel!”  Xaldin yelled back at you, slamming his hands into the door by the sides of your head, pinning you there with the vastness of his body.  “Not that you would understand, without your memories -”

            “I have enough memories to remember most of my life by now!”  You fired back.  “And who are you to make that judgment for anyone?  Who are you to say that they would agree -”

            “The fool is in love!”  Xaldin roared in your face, making you flinch.  “He's in love with a woman so much more beautiful than him, and he can't see how it will end up, but I know!  I've seen it, I've lived it, and he's better off an unfeeling monster!”

            This time, you really did slap him, your open palm connecting with his cheek.  He caught your wrist before it dropped, though, and he squeezed it hard, lowering his face towards yours as his upper lip curled in anger.

            “You can't say that for him!”  You thundered back before he could get another word in.  “You don't even remember what it is to feel love, so what makes you think -”

            Xaldin's lips crashed against yours suddenly, moving hungrily, powerfully...lustily.  He kissed with such fierceness that it left your head spinning as you gasped for air between his ministrations.  Instead of stopping for a breath, though, he knelt down, tipping his head up so he could run his full lips along the line of your jaw.  Your hands found purchase on his broad shoulders, your slender fingers squeezing his thick muscles as your knees went weak.  His strong, thick hands encircled your waist, slowly sliding down to feel the curve of your hips.

            The Lancer bit at your collarbone gently, soothing the mark with his tongue soon after.  He made his way down your chest, kissing the soft skin there, and stopped to bury his face in your cleavage, eliciting a gasp from you.  He lingered there only a moment, only long enough to commit your curves, your scent, your feel to memory.

            Abruptly, Xaldin stood up; your hands slid off his shoulders and down onto his extremely broad chest. 

            “Say that again,” Xaldin challenged brusquely, not looking into your eyes.

            “W-what?”  You stuttered, still reeling.

            “That I don't remember what it was to feel love.  Say that again, after all that.  I dare you.” 

            Your mouth dropped open dumbly.  Every kiss Xaldin had planted on you had been so passionate, so loving.  You couldn't deny that the man remembered the emotion well.

            “I wasn't the one who stopped remembering what love was.  _She_ was the one who forgot what we shared,” he added bitterly.  “...But that was in a different life.  Our time is almost up,” Xaldin reported, brushing himself off and returning to his regular, indifferent demeanor.  He nudged you aside, placing his hand on the doorknob and turning it.  Before he pushed the closet door open, though, he glanced at you over his shoulder.  “These past seven minutes haven't been such a waste after all, you know.  I learned a lot about you.”

            As he opened the door and the closet was flooded with light, you were left standing alone, feeling quite certain that that might not be a good thing…but at least you’d learned a little about the Whirlwind Lancer in return, and that, at least, felt strangely exciting.


	5. The Chilly Academic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's read, commented, or given me kudos so far! You're all really sweet and I hope this is a series that you continue to enjoy! Just so everyone knows - yes, I'm planning on finishing this and adding chapters for every member of the Organization (minus Roxas and Xion who are sweet underage cinnamon rolls too good for this fanfic). So, if you haven't seen the Nobody of your heart's desire yet, stick around, they'll be up soon!
> 
> Also, since this has been a fun exercise in characterization for me, I'm thinking I'll stretch this on with some extra chapters for each Nobody. Try to continue plots set up in their first chapters, etc. We'll see if I have time for that but I think it could be fun!
> 
> Now, onto Vexen's chapter. I had such a thing for him a couple years ago, it was crazy. Probably fueled by this one artist on Tumblr who had the best fanart of Vexen, really did his character justice somehow.

            The bottle was pointing to Vexen.

            “Ooooh!”  Axel jeered.

            “You got stuck with the old man!” Demyx added in a taunting sing-song.  You sighed and rolled your eyes; why did they all have to be like this?

            “That’s enough,” Vexen snapped, his sharp voice cutting through the heckling.  “We have no need for any more from you, Numbers Eight and Nine.”  You couldn’t help but notice the way he stressed their numbers just ever so slightly, enough to make them reconsider who they thought they were, harassing the fourth member of the Organization.

            Apparently satisfied when the jeering was reduced to quiet snickers, Vexen pulled himself to his feet.  You watched as he straightened and smoothed his cloak before crossing the circle and offering a slender hand to you with a small, almost gentle, smile.  The gesture put you at ease and you gave a small smile back.  You didn’t know much about Vexen – even when you helped in his lab on days when Saix ordered you there, you didn’t see much of him.  But, from the few interactions you did have with the Academic, you had begun to suspect that he had more to him than just an unending obsession with science – the man had good manners and seemed considerate enough.  The thought helped put you at ease. 

            Gently, you placed your hand in his, noticing how strange the ungloved contact felt.  His skin was soft and smooth – the hands of a scholar who fought relatively infrequently.  Vexen pulled you to your feet and slid his hand out of yours, offering you his arm instead.  You couldn’t help smiling just a little wider as you accepted his offer, winding your arm through his.  You suspected, by now, that he was making a bit of a show of being a perfect gentleman in front of the other men, though you couldn't really complain.  The blond scientist escorted you to the closet door, holding it open and ushering you inside.

            “After you,” he said.

            “Thank you,” you returned, a little shyly, before stepping into the closet. 

            “Yes, of course,” Vexen answered, closing the door behind himself.  Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light filtering in from under the heavy closet door, though it wasn’t long before you could see the Academic’s slender silhouette.  “Well, this is a most interesting social experiment our Number Ten has put forth.”

            “I suppose it is a social experiment of sorts,” you mused, a smile playing across your lips as you pressed your back to the far side of the closet, beginning to feel comfortable.

            And, of course, as soon as you felt at ease, the silence outside the door erupted into a loud cacophony of jeers.

            “ – got stuck with the old man!  What are the odds!”

            “ – And Vexen, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!”

            “Stop!  The mental image!”

            You felt pretty sure by this point that it was mostly Xigbar, Axel, and Demyx making the noise, though you could only catch phrases of their boisterous uproar. 

            “Ugh,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes in the dark – not that Vexen could see.  “They’re so immature sometimes.”

            “Yes,” Vexen said dryly, one hand drifting to his face in thought.  “It’s always puzzled me that you don’t mind associating yourself with them.  They’re all abrasive fools, and you’ve got some intellectual potential, if you don’t mind me saying.”

            You couldn’t help but smile at the compliment, knowing that Vexen didn’t hand them out freely – maybe he’d noticed some of your good work in the lab, after all.

            “Oh, no, I don’t mind.  Thank you,” you beamed.  The uproar from your fellow Nobodies continued outside, though, and you felt your smile slowly evaporate the longer they went on.  You sighed.  “They’re…not bad people, you know.  But I’m sorry to see that they’re being so rude tonight.  They really shouldn’t treat you like that.”

            Vexen gave a sharp bark of laughter.  To your surprise, he reached a thin finger up, brushing the underside of your chin in a surprisingly sensual gesture.

            “They're fools,” he declared, tipping your face up towards his.  “They think they can make me a laughingstock because they’re younger than me, but with age comes...experience.”  He placed a delicate stress on the last word, and you felt an involuntary shiver running up your spine.

            “Experience?”  You asked dumbly, though you knew perfectly well that he wasn’t referring to his mastery of the scientific arts.  Vexen smirked at your response, his other hand snaking around your waist.  You found you didn’t dislike the contact.

            “Experience, yes,” he confirmed.  “Since it seems we’re participating in this social experiment together, I could show you if you want...”  the Academic trailed off.  Vexen was older, to be fair, but with his high cheekbones, gorgeous blond hair, gleaming emerald eyes, and that slender body that moved so gracefully, the man still projected an impressive, if not downright attractive, image.  And you had to admit, you were quite intrigued by his words.  Experience almost sounded...alluring.  “I understand if you're not interested, though.”  Vexen's voice broke you out of your thoughts.  “Forgive me if I've been too pushy.”

            “No, no, that's not it at all!” you gasped, realizing that the moment appeared to be slipping away from you.  “I'm...I'm interested,” you finished, placing your hands on his slender chest and ghosting your lips over his jawline gently.  Vexen, you knew from your interactions in the lab, was fickle; if he felt either too unwanted or too desired and crowded, he would pull back from you.  Getting him to open up to you the little he had thus far had been a balancing act, and you knew that this moment would be no different.

            The gentle brush of a kiss seemed to be exactly what Vexen had needed.  The man made a quiet sound in the back of his throat, tipping his head back just for a moment in pleasure.  After a brief instant, he placed both his long-fingered hands on your shoulders, pulling you gently away from him.  You didn't resist, giving him some space and glancing up into his emerald eyes uncertainly.  Was he mad at you?  The man had an infamous ability to turn as chilly as the very ice he controlled at the slightest drop of a hat…

            “Close your eyes,” Vexen murmured, his eyes flashing mysteriously.  You did as he instructed, keeping your hands on his chest to keep a sense of where the man was.  “You can't help but be curious, can you?” the Academic chuckled deviously, leaning down towards you.  His long blond hair tickled your cheeks and shoulders, and his warm breath fluttered against your neck.  His hands slid slowly, sensuously down your arms, until his long fingers captured your slender wrists in a surprisingly secure grip.  “But that's what I've always valued in you.  Your natural curiosity is an indicator of an appreciable amount of intelligence.”  Gently, but firmly, he pulled your wrists up, pinning them on the wall next to your head.  Hot pressure on your lips made you jump, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes, surprised to find Vexen’s lips on yours in a firm kiss.  The Academic’s thin lips moved with a rigor you hadn’t expected, and you found yourself kissing him back, enjoying yourself.  Suddenly, Vexen stopped, pulling away incrementally, so that when he spoke, his warm breath and lips occasionally brushed your own.  “Not quite as much intelligence as my mind possesses, mind you,” the blond murmured.  A sly smirk worked across the scientist's fine features.  “But enough.  Enough.”

            You couldn’t resist a smirk of your own.

            “Glad to know my mind isn't quite as abysmal as one might fear,” you murmured, earning yourself a low chuckle from Vexen.

            “Mm,” he purred, his hands leaving your wrists and coming to rest on your hips.  After spending a moment lingering there, his fingers began prying at the bottom of your shirt, shimmying their way up under the fabric and exploring your stomach boldly.  Touches of ice, conjured sporadically and gently from the scientist’s fingers, made you gasp and squirm beneath the man.  “Tell me...would it please you to know that your body is...” One slender hand snuck up higher under your shirt, groping at your chest, still giving those terribly surprising and pleasurable little jolts of ice every now and then.  “...also appealing?” 

            Light flooded the room suddenly, blinding the two Nobodies tangled in each other.

            “Time's u -” Axel began to sing out obnoxiously.  “By _Oblivion.”_ The redhead gaped at the sight in front of him, turning and running away while making gagging noises for effect.

            “Oh come on,” Demyx laughed, pushing past Marluxia and Luxord to get a glimpse.

            “As if it's that bad -” Xigbar added, teleporting over.  Soon, the group of Nobodies were all gaping at the sight of Vexen, his tall, slender frame towering over you and his hands up your shirt.

            “Oblivion is right!” Demyx exclaimed, retreating from the group as quickly as he could.

            Vexen stepped away from you, leaving you missing his hot-and-cold touches as soon as they were gone.

            “That was a suspiciously short seven minutes,” you announced to the crowd of dispersing Nobodies.  You felt certain that Demyx gave you a guilty look as he slunk away.

            “Too short to draw any final conclusions from our social experiment, perhaps?”  Vexen commented, softly enough that only you could hear it, quirking one eyebrow upwards as he stepped out of the closet and back to the party, head held high as he moved.  You followed him shortly after, wondering when the next time you were assigned to his lab would be, and finding that you were looking forward to it more than usual.


	6. The Silent Hero

            The bottle was pointing to Lexaeus. 

            You sucked in a deep breath; did Lexaeus even _like_ you?  Or would he be cold and intimidating?  The thought of being holed up in a closet with the extremely large man for seven minutes actually scared you.  He was just so darned _big_ , and you had no indication as to how he'd act.

            Number Five was, in essence, a wild card.

            You thought you saw his eyebrows furrow just a tiny bit before he stood up and made his way over to the closet.  Well, that was an unhelpful reaction.  Was the man always this unreadable?

            A shove from Axel (who, you noticed, smelled vaguely of Fireball) reminded you that you were still in your seat, staring at the closet door.

            “C’mon, get up!  Up, up, up, and off to the closet with you!”  Axel ordered playfully, ushering you after Lexaeus.

            “Go on, sweetheart,” Xigbar drawled, thumping you on the back in the direction of the closet.  “Don’t make me teleport you in there myself.  Lex isn’t so bad,” he added, though you weren’t sure you felt reassured knowing that the man you were going to be in the closet with had the approval of the conniving Freeshooter.

            “Seven minutes,” Luxord added, flashing you a spectacular grin as you pulled open the closet door.  You gave a weak smile back, wondering if Number Ten’s words were meant to soothe you or not, as you stepped into the darkness and pulled the door shut behind you.  Seven minutes wasn’t that long, right?  If Lexaeus did anything that scared you, or made you uncomfortable, you could leave or shout for help.  If nothing else, at least there was a reasonable chance that Larxene would help you out.

            Absolute silence and near-total darkness reigned for a long stretch in the closet as your eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of light.  Repeatedly, you opened your mouth to speak, but soon shut it, uncertain what to even say.  Chat about the weather?  The party?  Ask how his missions were going?  All your options felt limited and pedantic.  Not that Lexaeus was faring much better – he wasn’t much of a conversation-starter, either, it seemed.  Your eyes scanned the darkness, seeking out his silhouette, but you couldn’t find a hint of him.

            Was he even in here with you?  Had he up and left, maybe summoned a Corridor of Darkness while you were taking your time being bustled into the closet?

            “Lexaeus?”  You finally squeaked out in surprise, fully expecting continued silence. 

            “Yes?”  Came the deep reply, so abruptly that you jumped in the dark.  You paused, feeling awkward and foolish as you tried not to stumble over your words in embarrassment.

            “I...I just wanted to check to see if you were in here,” you explained, finally spotting the man.  You simply weren't used to looking for figures as large as his, though now that you'd spotted him, he of course looked like an elephant in a china closet.  His back was pressed against the farthest wall, his arms crossed almost defensively in front of his broad chest.  The Silent Hero looked like he was as uncomfortable being in the closet with you as you felt around him.  This thought was, somehow, reassuring.

            “I'm here,” Lexaeus confirmed, rather redundantly, though much to your delight, he continued. “I apologize if I had you thinking otherwise, though.  I'm not one for much small talk.”

            “That's all right,” you laughed, feeling the tension in the room dissipate.  “I'm not much of a chatter, either.  That's really more of Larxene’s thing, actually.  I'm lucky I've got her for a friend, because otherwise, I'd just be clammed up in a corner reading a book or something.”

             “Our Number Six, Zexion, can be the same way,” the burly man commented, and if you weren’t aware that he didn’t have a heart, you’d almost swore you heard affection lacing his voice.  “He’s quite the bookworm and intellectual.  It often takes a more talkative man, such as Vexen, to extract him from his mind.”

            “You speak of Zexion very fondly,” you observed, finally taking a few steps into the closet and pressing your back against the side wall, sliding down until you were sitting.  Lexaeus followed suit, sitting against the back wall.  Your knees touched his, though neither of you seemed to mind – nor was there much you could do about it.  The closet was just too small for the both of you to be comfortable.

             “I’ve known Zexion since he was very young,” Lexaeus explained.  “He and I are very close, and I’m very proud of him.  He’s grown into a clever young man, and had to overcome plenty of adversity to do so.  I don’t say this often, but in some ways, he’s like a son to me.”

            “Really?  Oh, wow, I never knew – or expected – that,” you admitted, a little taken aback.  You had so many questions swirling inside your head – when had the two of them met?  What adversity had Zexion had to face, growing up?  How young had he _been,_ anyway?  How had the Silent Hero, of all people, wound up as a father figure to Number Six?  “Actually…you know, you're not like what I expected,” you admitted in wonder, daring a glance up into his blue eyes.  They were surprisingly pretty, determined, yet almost innocent, revealing a straightforward character – a dramatic change of pace from most Nobodies in the Organization.

            “What were you expecting, then?”  The Silent Hero rumbled; for a moment, you worried you’d offended him, but it wasn’t long until you realized he sounded mildly amused.

            “Um, I don't know,” you admitted.  “I guess I was expecting someone who was self-serving and calculating, like most of the rest of the Organization.  And I guess I was expecting you to be gruff and intimidating.  I'm sorry, it's just that you're so big, I made assumptions based on that.” 

            “I'm more of a gentle giant,” Lexaeus murmured, slowly offering his huge, ungloved hand to you.  Tentatively, you met his gaze, and placed your hand carefully in his palm.  He folded his fingers gently in, and you marveled at how completely his hand swallowed yours.  If you were honest with yourself, his thick, powerful hand felt comforting, somehow.  “Except in battle, of course,” Lexaeus added, pulling you out of your thoughts.  He gave you a wry smile, and you couldn’t help but return it shyly

            “Yeah, I can imagine,” you agreed.  “You must be quite the opponent…your arms are the size of my legs, after all!”  With a little giggle, you reached over to his bicep and gave it a half-pat, half-squeeze, immediately hoping that it wasn’t really as awkward as you felt it had been.

            Lexaeus didn’t seem to think so.

            “I suppose they are,” he mused.  “Do you like that?”

            Your mouth went dry and your hands – one still in Lexaeus’ grip, the other on his bicep – went clammy. 

            “I, uh, I – yes,” you admitted, feeling a hot blush rising to your cheeks.  You hadn’t thought about it before, but now that you did, and now that you could feel Lexaeus next to you and not be afraid of him, you realized you _did_ like it.  His size, his power, his determinedness to be gentle with you despite his lack of a heart – you wanted more of all of it.

            “Good,” Lexaeus murmured, and the hand you were holding pulled you into his embrace.  You folded into his body, amazed by its incredible capacity to be both firm and powerful, yet so gentle and tender.  You definitely wanted more of this massive, surprising man.  “If I’m being honest…” he hesitated before apparently deciding to continue.  “I want to get to know you better.  And I’m not much of one for big parties like this.”

            “Me neither,” you agreed, summoning a Portal of Darkness with a flick of your wrist.  “Let’s get out of here.”


	7. The Cloaked Schemer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eek, I'm a little nervous about this chapter. We're starting to get into some of the more popular characters now (Zexion, Axel...etc) and I know that so many people have different opinions of what "in-character" looks like for each of them. And, of course, everyone wants the chapter with their fave Nobody to be the best! With all that said, hopefully these upcoming chapters go well - I feel like there's a bit more expectation riding on them, haha!

            The bottle was pointing to Zexion.

            The slate-haired young man was buried up to his forehead in today's edition of the Traverse Town Times; you had to wonder if he was even aware that he was currently participating in Seven Minutes in Heaven, or if he'd just sat down in the nearest available space in the party without questioning, so long as he got to read in peace.

            “Hey!  Short stuff!  You’re up!”  Xigbar called to the Cloaked Schemer.  Lexaeus nudged Number Six in the side, though with his bulk, you noticed, even a small nudge looked painful.  Zexion snapped his newspaper down, shooting daggers at the Freeshooter. 

            “Thank you for informing me, Scarface,” Zexion quipped back, still scowling as he folded his newspaper down into a small square.  You didn’t hesitate; the tension in the air was suddenly as palpable as the sparks before Larxene’s lightning attacks.  You sprang to your feet and marched straight over to Zexion, grabbing the man by the crook of his elbow and escorting him into the closet before any more of Xigbar’s jeering incited a fight.

            “Seven minutes!” Luxord called after you as Zexion closed the closet door behind himself.  He had carried the newspaper in, you’d noticed, and now that it was apparently far too dark to read the print, he tossed it to the corner.

            “It was my hope that those imbeciles would forget my presence and count me out of this foolish time-waster of a game,” the Schemer sighed heavily.  You let go of his elbow, crossing to the far wall and sitting down stubbornly.

            “Sorry to ruin your plans, then,” you muttered, unable to help but feel put out.  Zexion was normally so polite to you; he must really be bothered to be this blunt all of a sudden.  Was being stuck in the closet with you so awful?  You had certainly been interested in more time with him for quite a while now – who wouldn’t want to get to know someone as handsome and clever as Zexion a little better? – but perhaps he didn’t feel the same about you?

            “Don't be absurd,” Zexion reprimanded, though gently this time, as he followed you across the closet and sat down by your side.  “It's hardly your fault, now, is it?  The real blame goes to Axel and those other clowns who arranged this farce.”

            You couldn't believe what you were about to say.

            “Oh, go easy on them,” you laughed.  Usually you spent all your time trying to convince one or more members of the Organization to be more serious; telling a Nobody to relax was certainly a dramatic change of pace.  “They just want to have a little fun for a change, is all.”

            Zexion sighed, his long bangs fluttering with his breath and catching the light from under the closet door.

            “That may be true, but so much work remains to be done,” he explained.  “And I so despise laziness.  I'm certain you understand.  Your history shows excellent performance on your missions, and Vexen speaks highly of you.  Though I can't understand why you choose to associate with that slacker, Xigbar.”

            You frowned, actually ready to defend the Freeshooter, when Zexion continued speaking.

            “Although I suppose he's quite a talented fighter, and he does have the Superior's favor.  I should be more concerned by your association with Number Nine.  _He's_ so lazy, it's almost a talent.” 

            You caught a sidelong, mischievous glance from Zexion, and couldn’t help but collapse into giggles.  As much as you liked Demyx, you had to admit that your friend's ability to pass his work onto other members while avoiding penalization from the higher-ups was, indeed, quite a skill in itself.  You couldn’t help but notice the way Zexion’s lips quirked up as you laughed, a triumphant light coming into his eyes.

            “You know, Zexion, I’m glad I caught you in here,” you admitted, still smiling at the Schemer.

            “I’m glad, too,” he replied.  “But who says we have to be in here at all?  Who says we can’t be, say, on a beautiful white sand beach, under a tropical sun?”

            And as the young man by your side spoke the words, you found yourself transported, sitting with your back against a palm tree, sand seeping into your boots, the calm azure ocean in front of you lapping at the shoreline in soft, gentle crashes.

            “But – how?!” You began, and Zexion gave what must have been the first chuckle you’d ever heard out of him.

            “If I tell you how, it’ll spoil the illusion,” he explained, and you sucked in a breath, remembering – illusions were Zexion’s power!  Of course!  But this felt so real – the air was tinged with salt and seaweed, and the sun – oh by Oblivion, the beautiful warm sun, beating down on your skin – such a perfect change of pace from the rainy, dark World that Never Was!  “We can go anywhere you want, anyplace your heart desires and your mind imagines. All you have to do is say the word.  But…for now, is this locale romantic enough for you?”  He leaned in closer to you, dropping his voice to a husky whisper.  Your breath hitched audibly in your throat, and Zexion must have heard it, because he smiled and murmured, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

            A slender hand slid up your arm, moving slowly, sensuously, before wrapping around the back of your neck and pulling you close.  You were nearly nose-to-nose with Zexion, and found that you liked it a lot better than seeing him buried just as closely in a book.

            “That is definitely a yes,” you confirmed, a little breathlessly.  A hot heat rose to your cheeks, but Zexion seemed to love it.  His smile – or was it a smirk? – grew as he pulled you in to a kiss.

            You didn’t know why, but you’d kind of hoped that Zexion was inexperienced, maybe a little naïve or shy.  Of course that didn’t fit the Schemer though; he was clever, master of himself and his knowledge, and right now, he was proving to you that he knew how to _kiss._ He nipped at your bottom lip and, as your head tilted back a little from the pleasure of his teasings, his tongue slid into your mouth.  He didn’t linger for long, though, instead choosing to press gentle, light kisses on your chin, then down your jawline, down your neck.  You melted in his arms, sliding down so your back rested against the warm white sand of the beach, and Zexion followed you, each kiss becoming more insistent as his body began to cover yours.  You shivered as he sucked at your collarbone, not hard enough to leave a mark but just close enough to make you wish he had. 

            You craned your neck down, desperate to have your lips on any part of Zexion’s body, and found one ear exposed from the way his slate blue shock of hair was falling.  You nipped gently at it, hoping it was something Zexion liked.  Instead, he giggled just a little.

            “That…actually tickles,” he admitted, pulling away and grinning down at you a little sheepishly. 

            “Sorry,” you laughed.  “I was hoping you’d like it.  Maybe this, instead?”  You pressed a kiss into his collarbone, mirroring what he had just done to you.  To your surprise, the Schemer moaned a little, the illusion around you flickering like an old lightbulb and giving way to glimpses of the dark closet you were actually in.     

            “That works,” Zexion confirmed.  “I need to work on my control when you’re doing these things to me, though…” he added, more to himself than anything.  You smiled into his neck, proud to have made the poised young man lose his composure, even for a moment.  It wasn’t long before you had another idea, though.

            “You mean, these things?”  You asked with all the false innocence you could muster, slipping your hand up his shirt and running your fingernails down his chest.  Again, the Schemer shivered, but this time, the illusion didn’t flicker.  Instead, he seemed to be trying harder to hold onto it; the sun intensified on your skin, as if it had gotten closer somehow, and a series of large waves crashed on the shore, a little bit of the spray hitting you.

            “Those things,” Zexion grunted.  Then, suddenly, he lifted his head up, away from you. “Do you smell that?”  He asked.  You frowned.

            “The sea?”

            “No, our coworkers-” he began, but was soon interrupted by the thud of the closet door swinging dramatically open.  The illusion disappeared around you, and you actually felt a little chilled to be back in the dank closet, with no more tropical sun to lavish in.

            “Methought the lad did protest too much,” Xigbar grinned.  “Have a fun time, did you?”

            “It’s good for him,” an unfamiliar voice rumbled.  Was that Lexaeus, actually speaking?  “Let him be.”

            “Yeah, Xigbar,” Axel added, a mischievous tone in his voice.  “Let the boy explore something other than books for a change.”

            Zexion got up with a huff, marching towards the closet entrance with a decidedly set ferocity in his steps, the likes of which you had never seen before from the normally patient man.

            “Is it so deeply embedded in your nature,” he addressed Xigbar and Axel, “to be insufferable that you can’t help but –”

            “That’s enough,” Lexaeus intoned, stepping between the three Nobodies.  “Everybody go sit down.”  You had risen to your feet by now, ready to intercede if necessary, but it seemed not even the most loud-mouthed Nobodies were willing to disagree with the huge boulder of a man that was Lexaeus.  You smiled a little to yourself; it was good to see someone on Zexion’s side, looking out for him.  As you headed for the closet door, though, you noticed that Zexion had left his newspaper in the corner where he’d tossed it earlier.  You bent down and scooped it up; he’d certainly want some reading material to get through the rest of the mandatory party.

            As you quickly shifted the papers in your hand back into some sort of order, you noticed a quick scrawling handwritten across the top of the front page.

            _Same time, same place, this Saturday,_ the memo read.  It was signed simply _VI._ As you finished reading it, it disappeared before your eyes – another illusion!  You smiled and stepped out of the closet to hand the paper back to Zexion, wishing you had a way of telling him how excited you already were for Saturday without incurring more teasing from your colleagues.

            As your eyes met while you handed the Traverse Times back to him, though, you decided it would be much more fun to save it all for Saturday and show him, instead.


	8. The Luna Diviner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was younger I was really not a big Saix person (okay, maybe except for in those Saix-puppy comics, does anyone here remember those?). But in recent years as his story developed more and more through the games, he really started to tug on my heartstrings and now I am just rooting so hard for a redemption arc to be written into canon for him. Anyway, this chapter was fun to write, a little more smutty than the rest because let's be real, Saix is not here for any of that mushy romance stuff that you need a heart for (even if I totally wish he would be).
> 
> Also, thank you SO much to everyone that's been reading and commenting on my story so far! All you readers are fantastic and literally the reason I put this out there in the first place, so I really hope you have enjoyed this! And to those of you who have given me encouragement in the comments, thank you extra (and extra thanks again to those of you that have been following along as I update! *coughyouknowwhoyouarecough*)! Your comments all mean so much to me, you don't even know! I am that dorky little author that checks her account frequently to see what people think of the latest chapter hahaha.

            The bottle was pointing to Saix.

            The bluenette's face remained largely unchanged, though his yellow-gold eyes did flicker over to you as he rose from his seat, otherwise completely emotionless.  You swallowed hard, pulling yourself to your feet and beginning to follow Saix.  Axel, meanwhile, was completely oblivious to the tension in the air, elbowing Luxord, Demyx, and anyone else he could reach.

            “Yeah, buddy!”  He called after Saix, who remained perfectly unperturbed.  “Knock 'em dead!  Go for the gold!”  You weren’t totally sure what the 'gold' was in this situation, but you had the feeling you would have some very choice words for the redhead if you knew.  Having received sufficient elbowing from Number Eight, Demyx apparently felt obligated to join in the catcalls.

            “Yeah!  Uh...go Saix!  Get some action, loosen up a little bit and forget about those missions for once!”  Demyx chirped.  You snorted at this; sure, Saix seemed to be a stick in the mud almost all the time, but did Demyx _really_ only ever think about how to get out of work?

            Saix held the closet door open for you, stepping to the side politely.  You dared a glance up at the Luna Diviner, noticing for what may have been the first time that he was quite well built – though, you figured, this may have been because his Organization coat was cut so large on him, especially at the sleeves, that it always hid his body.  The black t-shirt and jeans he was wearing fit his form much more nicely. 

            “Seven minutes,” he reminded the crowd stonily before following you into the closet and closing the door behind you both.  You blinked, trying to adjust to the new darkness of the closet, uncertain where to move with Saix just behind you.  Stepping on his toes – both literally or figuratively – seemed like a bad idea just now; he’d had a bad enough day as it was.

            “Well,” Saix spoke, his surprisingly deep voice coming from just behind you and sending chills down your spine.

            “Well,” you echoed, still feeling frozen to the spot, though you did dare a glance over your shoulder at the Diviner.  His eyes met yours, catlike in the dark, though they belied no hints of his thoughts. 

            “Do you plan on staying here in the doorway?  Because I’d rather not,” Saix said, and although his tone of voice had hardly changed, if at all, you worried that he was already halfway to scolding you.

            “Um,” was all you managed, now staring up into those golden, catlike eyes, noticing how they were currently narrowing at you.  “No, I…” you began, but it was too little, too late for Saix, who placed one large hand in the small of your back and walked you forward into the closet.  You jumped a little at the contact, surprised he’d chosen to steer you in such an intimate way.  But then again, he shouldn’t have had to move you at all.  “Sorry,” you managed quietly.

            “For what?”  Saix asked, his deep voice still flat, still capable of sending shivers down your spine – perhaps even more so here, where you were so close to him.

            “Well, uh, all of this, I guess,” you explained, pulling away from Saix and pressing your back into a corner.  “I saw you earlier today, how all of this party business got under your skin.  I’m sure it’s been a long night for you…not exactly how you’d choose to spend your time off.”

            Saix eyed you curiously, pressing his back against the wall adjacent to you but standing close enough that your shoulder was pressed to his arm.  There was plenty of room for the Luna Diviner to move away from you and create space, you noticed – not that you wanted him to, necessarily.

            “What have you heard of how I choose to spend my time off?”  Saix asked, though again, infuriatingly, his voice betrayed no emotions.  You weren’t afraid of Saix in the same way that some Nobodies seemed to be, but you didn’t want to put him in a worse mood, either.

            “Not much,” you shrugged, feeling your shoulder move along the Diviner’s well-built arms.  “I hear you don’t have much time off, to start.  But I’ve been told you can often be found in the Addled Impasse late at night, meditating.  Just in case I had some pressing question at 3AM, you know.”

            “Mm.”  Saix sounded a little amused, the first emotion you’d heard from him.  “I don’t expect, though, that you’ve heard that Axel takes me to the bars downtown sometimes, when he really feels I need to step away from my role here?”

            “No,” you answered, surprised.  You knew he and Axel were somewhat close, but they must have been even closer than you thought if Axel could get Saix – Saix! – to go out for a night on the town.

            “Indeed.  We may not have hearts, but we can still enjoy some…carnal pleasures.”  Saix turned slightly to face you, one hand drifting up to trace your collarbone in feather-light touches.  “Good food, strong drink, pretty women.  But, you know, Axel always finds himself so irritated with me; I always decline to take any girls back to the castle.  Of course, he has no clue I’ve had my eye on a girl already _in_ the castle.”  Your eyes widened in realization; you caught on quick, and it was unmistakable that Saix was coming on to you.  His eyes met yours with an unusual intensity, as if a fire were raging in those golden depths.  “I want to be clear, though.  I don’t believe you and I can forge any sort of real bond; not without our hearts.  But maybe someday, when Kingdom Hearts is completed.  In the meanwhile, I can only want you for your body.”

            “Coworkers with benefits?”  You asked coyly, a small smile tugging at your lips; this was surprising, yes, but you liked it.  You’d like any arrangement that gave you access to that body of the Diviner’s with no strings attached, if you were being honest with yourself. 

            “Something like that,” Saix agreed; was it your imagination or were the corners of his lips tilting up, too?

            “I’d like that,” you agreed, closing the short distance between the two of you and sliding your hands onto his broad shoulders, muscled thickly enough for swinging that massive claymore of his.  His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you to him almost greedily.

            “Good,” Saix murmured, wrapping his arms around you now, one hand sliding again to your lower back – perhaps a favorite spot for him, you mused – while his other made its way up to tangle in your hair and pull you in to a kiss.

            His kiss, much like his words, didn’t fool around with pretenses.  He was aggressive with you right from the beginning, forcing his way into your mouth and teasing your tongue just how he wanted to.  He pulled on your hair and you nipped at his lips in return, earning you a low groan from the Diviner.  He was back in your mouth in no time, making you his, but you were busy shivering from the delightful sound of that little moan – so rich, so deep, so unexpected!  You wanted more.  Again you nipped at his lips, and again, Saix moaned.  Yes, you liked this a lot.  You tugged on his bottom lip harder this time, but Saix stifled any sounds, instead pressing your back against the wall, his body rock-solid and immovable as he pinned you down.

            “You should be careful,” your newfound lover growled, his breath hot against your ear.  “You don’t know this about me yet, but I dislike not being in control.”

            “Oh, is that so?  Why, what are you gonna do to me if I’m not careful?”  You asked as innocently as you could, leaning forward just a smidge so you could reach Saix’s ears.  You nipped at the point of his ear, being sure to let your teeth scrape sensuously but gently against his skin as you pulled away.  He was obviously a big fan of these little love bites, as again, he moaned, then sucked in a breath as he realized what you’d done.

            “What will I do to you for defying my authority?  I will simply have to re-establish it,” Saix decided, his hands again finding your hips as he pressed you just a little harder against the wall.  “When I’m done with you, you will know that no one else can take you as well as I can, that no other man can fulfill your needs the way I can.  And you _will_ know to be a good girl for me.”

            “You mean, Saix,” you said coyly.  “I’m not being a good girl now?  Because unless I’m very mistaken, you’re enjoying this.”  You slid a hand between the two of you, reaching brazenly between his legs and grazing your palm along the rather bulge you found there; you’d felt it against your body, growing in his jeans, giving him away.  Saix shivered, inhaled sharply, and then –

            The closet was flooded with light and sound.

            “Yea-ah!  That’s my buddy!”  Axel was cheering.  “Killing it in there, you clever old ladies’ man –”

            “Way to take one for the team!”  Demyx was also cheering, though you had a feeling he was addressing you in particular.  “I knew you could loosen him up a little!”

            “Well, I’ll be dipped, Lux,” Xigbar’s drawl cut through the noise.

            “You owe me.  Again,” Luxord’s accent, distant but self-assured, could be heard.

            “ _Damn_ them all!”  Saix growled under his breath, pounding his fists against the wall above your head.  You shrank back from him, surprised to see what looked like very real anger written across his face.  Maybe it was just you imagining things, but for an instant, his scar looked a little more ragged, his hair more flyaway.  But it must have just been a trick of the light, because a moment later, the vision was gone, and he was back to his unperturbed self.  He stepped back from you finally, quickly adjusting himself in his jeans.  “You know where to find me.  Don’t keep me waiting too long.”  And with that, he turned and walked away, giving Axel an absolutely withering stare as the redhead clapped him on the back and followed him out, arm now around the bluenette’s shoulder.

            Demyx was saying something about you being his hero, and had his arm around you, mimicking Axel.  But you were hardly listening.  You knew where to find Saix?

            And then your own words came back to you - _I’ve been told you can often be found in the Addled Impasse late at night, meditating.  Just in case I had some pressing question at 3AM, you know._ Well, you certainly did have a very pressing question now – would Saix live up to his promises of asserting himself over you, of ravishing you, if you refused to be the good girl he wanted? 

            You didn’t plan on keeping the Luna Diviner waiting.  Not at all.


	9. The Flurry of Dancing Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you all are doing well and enjoying the changing seasons! I finished up with my second semester of my doctorate and have finally had enough time to get back to this series. Writing Axel is really intimidating - as I'd mentioned earlier, he's a very popular character and I don't want to disappoint anyone! Hopefully this chapter is something you all can enjoy though!

            The bottle was pointing at Axel.

            The Flurry of Dancing Flames gave a short, delighted laugh, his catlike green eyes lighting up at you from across the circle.

            “I am one lucky guy!”  Axel declared, elbowing Demyx, his seatmate, as he stood up.  “Here I was, worried I’d have to wait an hour before getting a chance in the closet.”  Axel flashed another brilliant smile at you as he crossed the circle, one hand extended.  You shifted your weight forward, reaching out to Axel in return, feeling a little flattered by his enthusiasm.  “That would have been really boring.”

            This finally gets you, and you can’t help but smile at Axel, laughing a little as he pulls you to your feet, his slender arms surprisingly strong.  For someone who supposedly didn’t have a heart, you mused, he was awfully cheerful tonight – and it was contagious, too.  Maybe this game wouldn’t be so bad after all.

            “Hey, sweetheart,” Xigbar’s familiar voice drawled.  You glanced back at the Freeshooter as Axel wound his arm around your waist, guiding you in the direction of the closet; the older man had a look on his face that you knew to signal danger and mischief.  A knot formed in your stomach.  “You wanna tell us how you plan on making sure Axel doesn’t get too bored tonight?”

            You felt your cheeks redden, probably rivaling Axel’s hair, as the Organization erupted into chaos and cacophony.  Demyx and Luxord were jeering something probably inappropriate, from what you could make out of it; Larxene was shouting angrily at Xigbar; Saix looked exasperated and was begging anyone who can hear him to shut up.  Above it all, Axel laughed again, swinging the closet door open for you; you practically ran inside, desperate to conceal your embarrassment.  The Organization quieted somewhat, as if in anticipation, and Axel paused before entering the closet after you.

            “I’m sure you can imagine, Xigbar,” he said coolly over his shoulder.  “Just try not to get too jealous thinking about it.”  And with that, Axel stepped inside next to you, closing the closet door behind him as the brouhaha returned, though this time the jeering was directed toward the Freeshooter. 

            “Number Two isn’t quick to forgive,” you warned Axel, stepping into the closet and feeling your way along the wall, waiting for your eyes to adjust.  “You’re probably in for a month of nasty pranks, minimum.  If he’s feeling really vindictive, he might even sabotage your missions.”

            “Ah, well,” Axel sighed, and you could practically hear him shrugging.  “I’m not exactly known for respecting my elders, and Xigbar needed to be taken down a notch almost as badly as Vexen does.  Besides, it’s a small price to pay if it means I get to have some time alone with you.”

            “Me?”  You blurted out before you could stop yourself, the surprise evident in your voice as you turned around to steal a glance at your closet-mate.  Noticing his eyes on you, though, you quickly disguised the gesture by pressing your back against the wall.

            “You,” Axel confirmed, and you could see a sly smile grow on his face as he leaned against the wall as well, edging closer to you.  “You’re different from the rest of them, you know.  You’ve got more fun and spirit in you still, somehow.  And…you’re a whole lot cuter than that sausage party, too.”  He laughed a little at his own joke.

            “I bet you say that to all the girls,” you retorted, eyes narrowing in suspicion, though you knew the corners of your lips were turning up just a little at the edges.  Axel thought you were cute?  Since when?  Sure, he _had_ invited to go out a few times with him and Saix, but you’d assumed that was purely platonic.  “I bet you tell them all they’re different and special, make them fall in love with you just a little.”

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Axel laughed, holding up his hands in protest before raking one long-fingered hand through his red locks.  “Who’s “them”?  I don’t exactly walk around the castle with a different girl on my arm every day, now, do I?  Besides,” he added, growing serious and dropping his otherwise animated hands to his sides with a small shrug. “You really are different.  You’re more…alive than the rest of them, somehow.  I don’t know how to explain it.  I just know that I like it about you.  I always have.  So…got it memorized?”  His fingers brushed against yours tentatively, and for a moment you hesitated.  You wanted to ask him a half-dozen questions – when did this start?  Why hadn’t he talked to you about this before?  And you had questions for yourself, too – why hadn’t you ever admitted to yourself before that you liked Axel?  But if you lingered a second longer, you knew the moment would be gone.  Instead, you held your questions back and let your fingers curl around his.

            “Maaaaybe,” you sing-songed coyly at him, marveling at how warm his hands feel.  Axel’s thin eyebrows rose practically into his hair as a playful smile stole across his face.

            “ _May_ be?!”  He asked in mock surprise, ever a good sport – and, you’d noticed, a good flirt.  His thumb was rubbing small little circles on your hand, and your stomach was doing flip flops.  “No, no, no.  Let’s try this again.”  Axel’s free arm sneaked lithely across your body, stealing your other hand and quickly going to work playing with the skin there, too.  “I ask you, ‘Got it memorized?’  And _you_ say…”  he trailed off dramatically for effect, looking down at you as if to cue you. 

            “Maybe,” you repeated yourself.  “It depends, really…can’t be bothered to memorize everything, right?”

            “Well, then,” Axel said, his voice a husky whisper.  He stepped towards you, raising your hands and pressing them to the wall as he pressed his slender, strong body against yours.  You let him pin you, feeling your breathing catch.  “I’ll just have to make sure that you never, ever want to forget this.” 

            The next thought you had was that Axel’s lips were remarkably soft and warm as they pressed into yours.  He kissed you deeply and passionately, only pulling away after a long time to nip at your lower lip before he pushed you into another powerful kiss.  Your head was swimming; his tongue was everywhere you wanted it to be, and you were completely swept away, electrified from head to toe.  If you weren’t completely heartless, you’d think that this was the most profoundly romantic kiss of your entire life.  His hands dropped from yours and he reached for your neck instead, cupping the back of your head and running his fingers through your hair.  You reached for his shoulders, savoring the feel of his strong, lean muscles under your fingers. 

            “And what are you going to do to make sure I _have_ got it all memorized?”  You mumbled against Axel’s lips, your boldness surprising even yourself.  But Axel seemed to like it.  His lips smirked against yours, and he trailed one hand down your body lazily, slipping up underneath your shirt.  Long fingers slid against your stomach, and for a moment you expected them to move up under your bra, but instead they dipped down, tugging at the hemline of your jeans.

            “First, we’re going to get out of here,” Axel whispered in your ear, his red locks tickling your nose.  “Second, I’m going to show you that I can do a hell of a lot more with this tongue than just kiss you senseless.  Third, when you’re screaming my name-"

            The doorway burst open then, the light nearly blinding you, and you froze, still entwined with the Flurry of Dancing Flames.

            “Good for you, Axel!” A short, British voice cheered – obviously Luxord’s, and as your eyes adjusted to the light, you saw Numbers IX and X predominating the doorway.

            “Yeah, buddy!”  Demyx agreed, snapping a photo with a camera that you were pretty sure was Axel’s at some point.  “Good for you!”  Axel grinned back at Demyx, removing his hands from your pants in order to pull you against his side while flashing Number Nine the thumbs up.

            “Get a second picture of that to send to Xigbar,” said a great, hulking shadow that you slowly recognized as Xaldin.  “I need something to get under his skin.  Long story.”  Demyx obliged, capturing your now beet-red face next to Axel’s grinning one for all eternity.

            “Let me see,” came Larxene’s voice, and her blond head appeared over Demyx’s shoulder.  You thought you heard her say something about you and Axel actually being kind of cute together, but couldn’t hear for sure, because Axel had turned to whisper in your ear.

            “So, shall we start with part one of that plan?”

            You smiled and nodded, then heard the familiar sound of a Corridor of Darkness opening in front of you.  Never had one ever looked so inviting.

 


	10. The Melodious Nocturne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter to go up here! As anybody who has been reading this for a little while has probably noticed, I update in very brief, intense spurts and then go silent for a few months as I go back to school. I do have some summer classes coming up, but we tend to get less weekend homework for those, and my job as a research assistant at school is on break for the summer, so I hope to be somewhat more regular in my updates! Thank you to all who have stuck with me through all these on-again, off-again bursts, and thank you to all who are reading this for the first time! 
> 
> Aaaanyway, Demyx is up next! He was a source of literally constant entertainment for me during the era of Saix-puppy comics. And then after that came the fandom's wonderful fascination with XigDem around when Days came out. They're probably still one of my favorite pairings, to be honest!

            The bottle was pointing to Demyx.

            The Melodious Nocturne's eyes widened, and he stared at you with what you would say was terror, if you didn’t know any better.

            “Oh maaan,” Demyx whined, springing to his feet and turning around, looking for a way out.  “No way.  This thing should never land on me.  Wrong guy here.  She should spin again.”

            So that _was_ terror on his face.  But why?  You’d always gotten along pretty well with Demyx, even considered him to be a friend of sorts…

            “As if,” Xigbar snapped, frowning at the young man panicking before him.  “That bottle lands on you, you have to go in there.  You’ll have fun.”

            “No way, Xig,” Demyx protested.  “Cut me some slack here -”

            “Rules are rules,” Luxord announced authoritatively in his clipped British accent.  “And you must play the hand that fate's dealt you, I'm afraid.”

            “No, wait, just – c’mon,” Demyx pleaded, apparently making his last stand as he turned to you.  Honestly, this was getting to be more than just unexpected now – you were starting to feel both annoyed and insulted.  He didn’t have to keep making such a show of this.  “Tell them that you wanna spin again.”

            You glared at the Melodious Nocturne, trying not to feel embarrassed on top of everything else.  What was Demyx’s problem, anyway?  Wasn't he supposed to have a strong will to be a member of the Organization?  Couldn’t he just suck it up for seven minutes and then move on?  Before you could open your mouth to tell Demyx off, though, Xigbar interrupted.

            “Look, _Nine_ ,” he growled, placing a subtle emphasis on Demyx’s comparatively lower rank as he rose to his feet.  “It doesn't matter whether or not she wants to spin again.  You're both going in there, like it or not.  So I suggest you start walking to that closet voluntarily, before I throw you in myself.”  Demyx lowered his head in defeat, slouching miserably towards the closet.  You watched him, feeling ever more annoyance bubble up in your gut.  “That goes for you, too, sweetheart,” Xigbar added, glaring at you and pointing one summoned Arrowgun at the closet door. 

            “I didn’t have a problem with this until _he_ did,” you snapped in anger.  The moment the words were out of your mouth, you regretted them.  Demyx glanced over his shoulder at you, and you could see the embarrassment and apology and hurt in his eyes all at once.  You dropped your eyes from his, unable to bring yourself to meet them again.  Fighting back a strangling combination of irritation and regret, you put a hand on Demyx’s back and guided him into the closet, closing the door behind yourself.

            The darkness was overwhelming, but Demyx quickly moved away from your contact.  You waited a moment, feeling for the wall while your eyes adjusted. 

            “Um, look,” Demyx sighed, and you could just make out the outline of his silhouette against the closet wall opposite to you.  “I don’t have a problem with this the way you might think I do.  This is, like, super embarrassing for me, but you’re my friend and I owe you an explanation for how I was acting.  Just…will you promise me to keep it private?  Only between us?”

            “Yeah,” you answered, still annoyed but undeniably curious now.  What was so important that he had to confess to you?  Maybe he was going to tell you he was gay and had never been interested in girls in his life?  There was no question in your mind – you’d support him if he was.  “I promise, Demyx.”

            “Thanks,” Demyx says, and you can see enough of his face to see that adorable smile being flashed at you from across the closet, with just a few of his long Mohawk hairs drifting across his forehead.  It was a damn shame if he was gay, you thought to yourself; he was cute in the teenage-heart-throb way every girl wanted, and he could sing and play some serious music, to boot.  “It’s just…I’ve never done _any_ thing with a girl.  Like, nothing.  Not even holding hands, much less a kiss.  It sounds super lame, but I guess I’ve just always had my music and my friends to focus on, and I kinda figured things would fall into place with someone when it was the right time for them to.  And now I’m here, in the Organization, where I can’t exactly just take a nice girl home to the Castle and expect that to go well.”  Demyx blew out a long breath, raking one hand through his Mohawk, inadvertently causing parts of it to fall over.  “Um, I’m kind of babbling now, but basically, I’m just afraid of how little I know when it comes to girls, and I’m totally the last person who’s ready to make this game fun for you, and I kind of thought you deserved someone better.  I thought that pulling my usual ‘don’t make me do this’ crap would work to fix this.  I swear I didn’t mean to upset you.  It usually works on the rest of them.”

            A long moment passed as you let Demyx’s words sink in, processing what he had said.

            “Aw, Demyx, listen,” you sigh, feeling the last of your annoyance slip away.  “It’s fine that you haven’t done anything with girls before.  In fact, I think it’s pretty cool that you focused on making yourself better and knew that the right girl would come along when the time is right.  I don’t have any expectations for this game,” you added, thinking amusedly about how number Nine had effectively shattered those the moment the bottle had stopped.  “So if you want to try anything, for fun or practice or whatever, that’s fine.  But first, I have to ask…you really just put on that lazy, wimpy, immature act because you know it works on them?!”

            “Yeah,” Demyx laughed, taking a few steps towards you.  His body language had loosened up significantly, you noticed; his shoulders were no longer tense, and there was an ease and grace of his movement that you admired.  “Like, every time.”

            “Have you no shame?”  You asked playfully, putting your hands on Demyx’s shoulders and holding him at arm’s length, as if appalled.

            “Literally none,” he laughed again, winding his arms around your waist.  “Not my fault Saix can’t motivate me and Xemnas can’t pay me enough to bother.  But, you know, I’m actually pretty strong once I do apply myself.”

            “I wouldn’t mind you applying yourself tonight,” you quipped, effectively delivering what was quite possibly the worst pickup line you’d ever heard, from your mouth or anyone’s, really.  But Demyx didn’t seem to notice or mind, and in fact pulled you closer.  He was taller than you’d expected, but not by much, and you were sure that once his lean, wiry frame finished filling out, he was going to be a total hunk.

            “Stop me if I’m too bad at this,” Demyx cautioned you before going in for a kiss.  He was a little awkward at first, and his lips were a little too stiff and tense, but it wasn’t long before he found himself melting into you, delivering slow, sensuous kisses and holding your body ever tighter to his.  As you pulled away for air, a little giggle escaped you.  “What?”  Demyx asked, a bit nervously.

            “We have both _got_ to work on our dirty talking,” you laughed, diving back in for another kiss and smiling against his lips.  A noise of agreement came from the back of Demyx’s throat, and it wasn’t long before he was smiling and laughing against your lips, too.  With a gentle, hesitant pressure, he worked his way to the corner of your mouth, trailing kisses down your cheek, then to your ear, and down your neck, until he was sucking at your collarbone, hard.  You squirmed against him, loving the hot pressure and the soothing motions of his tongue.

            “Do you like that?”  Demyx asked, his hands sliding up from your waist to grope your breasts.  You arched into him, pressing your chest further into his kneading fingers.

            “Yes,” you answered breathily, noticing that your legs were shaking a little as Demyx kept at his ministrations.

            “Good,” Demyx answered, pulling his mouth away with a loud _pop_ before giving you one last quick peck on the lips.  “We’re probably almost out of time, you know.”

            “Oh,” you sighed, a bit disappointed.  “Yeah, I guess this has been an awful long seven minutes.  You know, I think they left you in here extra-long on purpose, to try to torment you.  Not that I mind one bit,” you add quickly.

            “Yeah, me neither,” Demyx agreed.  “This has been fun.  Embarrassing and terrifying, at first, but a lot of fun in the end.”

            “Yeah,” you echoed as Demyx stepped away from you, walking backward until his fingers could no longer touch you and his back was against the other wall again.  Was that it, then?  You knew you’d said he could practice on you, but you also found it hard not to want more of him.

            “Um, hey,” Demyx said, his voice again a little nervous.  “There’s this open mic this Saturday that I’m performing at.  It’s a really chill place…they serve dinner there, and I know of at least five other really good artists that are going up on stage, too, so, y’know, it should be a good night.  I’d really like it if you could come.  Dinner’s my treat.”

            “That’d be great,” you agreed, unable to keep your eagerness out of your voice.  Demyx’s eyes lit up across from you and he flashed you another of those perfect smiles.

            “Great!  I’ll pick you up at your room after we’re done with missions, then?”  He offered.

            “Sounds like a plan,” you beamed at the Melodious Nocturne.  He beamed back, taking a step towards you, before groaning and stepping back.

            “Ahh, I’m sorry,” he apologized.  “I just honestly don’t want to give them the satisfaction of thinking that they were right and that I was all upset about nothing.  Could really ruin my whole ‘I don’t want to do this’ thing, you know?”  You laughed, shaking your head.  “Plus, I’d rather get to know you without the whole of the Organization breathing down our necks.”

            The door exploded open then, nearly smacking Demyx in the shoulder.  He moved in time to avoid it, though, giving a small offended shout.

            “Ha!  Caught you!”  Axel shouted triumphantly, a camera flash popping before your eyes. 

            “Doing…nothing?”  Xigbar asked, clearly disappointed.  Demyx just shrugged and looked at you from across the closet.  Fighting to maintain a straight face, you shrugged back.

            “Come now, that’s hardly the spirit of the game,” Luxord chided from over Axel’s shoulder.  “I’m disappointed that you would both be such sore losers.”

            “Sorry to disappoint, guys,” Demyx said nonchalantly, stepping out of the closet.  The Nobodies gathered around parted for him, and you followed in his wake, returning to your seat.  Axel, Xigbar, and Luxord followed suit, and the entire room was nearly silent except for some angry grumbling from the older Nobodies. 

            Mentally, you were breathing a sigh of relief.  That had been one emotional roller coaster, sure, but hadn’t really been so bad.  Now the next person would go spin, and all of this could be forgotten.

            “Wait a minute, guys,” Larxene called, leaning over from her seat next to you and narrowing her eyes.  “She has a hickey!  Right there!”

            And the whole room exploded in noise.


End file.
